


Bygones

by moodymarshmallow



Series: Always Cloudy One-Shots and Side-Stories [3]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodymarshmallow/pseuds/moodymarshmallow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theodore still can't sleep sometimes, but Andrew's there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bygones

There were three reasons that Theodore Murphy’s bed was the best bed in the entire city of Portland, and maybe the world. Firstly, it was big, which meant Andrew had plenty of room to stretch out to his full height without running the risk of a limb falling over the side. Secondly, it was just the right mixture of soft and firm, not so hard that Andrew woke feeling stiff and unrested, but not so soft that he felt like he’d sink right through it. Lastly, and most importantly of all, it was where Theodore slept, curled loosely in the fetal position with his back firm against Andrew’s chest, one hand over the arm wrapped around him. Sometimes Pounce tried to sleep between them, worming his way under Theodore’s hair to curl against the back of his neck, and that was wonderful too because a full bed was a good bed in Andrew’s mind.

It was the emptiness that got Andrew’s attention when he woke in that groggy, dreamy haze, the kind that usually just results in a shift, a sigh, and a return to sleep. He was immediately startled awake by the fact that he was alone in bed, since that had rarely happened since moving in with Theodore. He sat up, gave the room a cursory glance through half-open, bleary lids, and noted that not only was Theodore gone, Pounce was as well, which left the bed feeling over-large and cold. After a minute of sluggish thinking he laid back down, giving the two of them some time to return before going to look for him. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Theodore to use the restroom or get water in the middle of the night, and Pounce generally followed him, so Andrew waited for ten minutes before pushing off the covers and climbing out of bed.

It was dark in the hallway, but a strip of golden light poured out from under the door that lead to Theodore’s office. Andrew padded down the hall, having only wrapped a robe haphazardly around himself before ducking out of the room, and the hard floors were cold under his bare feet. He opened the door, glancing first to Theodore’s computer desk, thinking that he might have snuck out of bed to finish up some last minute work, but found him instead folded up on the floor, small and hunched, with tears in his eyes. Andrew dropped to his side instantly, putting his arms around Theodore’s shoulder and pulling him in, pressing a kiss to the side of his head as he used a thumb to wipe away one of the tears rolling down Theodore’s pale cheek.

“Don’t cry baby,” Andrew whispered with his lips on Theodore’s cheek, and he could think of nothing worse than watching him cry while being unable to make things better. He had done that once, and in the months that Theodore had spent in Nevada, so out of reach that he felt like he was lost to him, Andrew told himself that would never happen again.

“I’m fine, really.” Theodore kissed him lightly on the lips, placing a hand on Andrew’s cool cheek and guiding him down next to him. Andrew sat, and Theodore spread out the book he’d been looking at on both of their legs, smoothing the crinkled cellophane that protected the photos. “I couldn’t sleep; I got up and started looking for a Christmas decoration and found this instead.” Overwhelmed with curiosity even though he was only half-convinced that Theodore was alright, Andrew lifted the heavy photo album in his hands and brought it closer to his face. He was going to need glasses soon, there was no escaping it. His eyes settled on a photo in the upper right-hand corner of the page, and the smile that broke his face made it ache.

“This is you, as a child?” Andrew asked, though he knew; there was no mistaking that wide-eyed, fine boned face. He put a finger to the photo, touching little Theo’s face, the protective plastic crinkling under the pressure. “You were…”

“I was very small,” Theodore said with a wistful smile, putting his head on Andrew’s shoulder as they looked at the photo together. “My father was worried that I’d end up being under five feet tall. He was a bit taller than you, actually, and I think he was afraid that my height would make things more difficult for me as an adult.” Andrew wrapped an arm around Theodore as he spoke, pressing his lips lightly to the top of his head. “He was so relieved when I had a growth spurt at nineteen.”

“I wouldn’t have minded.” With a careful hand, Andrew turned a page in the album, savoring the photos like expensive wine, taking his time with each to absorb the photograph remnants of memories he couldn’t possibly share. “Is this your father?” he asked, and hovered his forefinger near a picture of a tall, thin man with a stethoscope around his neck. Theodore nodded silently, and from across the room there was a soft thud as Pounce jumped out of the computer chair, stretching his long body as far as it would go before he came to Andrew’s side and put his paws on his thigh. He meowed once, giving the photo album a deliberate push as he squirmed into Andrew’s lap. “You never really say much about your dad,” Andrew said as he dropped his hand to stroke Pounce’s lean body, not taking his eyes off of the picture.

“It’s hard.” Theodore’s voice was thick, and when he cleared his throat, Andrew felt another tear on his shoulder. This time he didn’t try to brush it away, and it rolled down his skin to catch on the edge of his robe, soaking in and disappearing. “There was a lot that we never talked about, and it was my fault.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“No, it is.” Theodore sighed gently, reaching out to turn the page. “I was scared. You know? I had only just found out that I was adopted at the same time I was coming to terms with being gay. I thought that they would have regretted me if they knew.” Andrew felt Theodore swallow hard, and he set down the book so he could wrap his arm around his waist, holding him close.

“You’re a wonderful, generous, amazing man,” Andrew said quietly, an earnest tenderness in his voice. “There’s no way he could have been anything but proud.”

“I know,” Theodore said, but his voice broke and Andrew gathered him closer, giving him not just a shoulder but his entire body to lean on, and if he wanted the lap he could have that too; it would be a small thing to shoo Pounce away to free it up. “I just kept telling myself that I’d tell him the next time I talked to him, and every time we spoke I could never bring myself to say it.” There was a long pause as Theodore shifted to scratch Pounce under the chin, his head still resting on Andrew’s shoulder. “I miss him, and I wish you could have known him.”

“I know you,” Andrew said, smiling. “Whatever you picked up from him, whatever you carry because of him, I’ve seen it through you. It’s a big fucking world out there, and I still wake up in the morning thanking God, or fate, or whatever it was that brought us here at exactly the right time in both of our lives because I feel so incredibly lucky to have met you.” Theodore lifted his head off of Andrew’s shoulder, and though his eyes were red, he had a soft, wistful smile on his face.

“Every morning?”

“You mean you don’t?” Andrew asked with a dubious frown, but the corners of his eyes were crinkled with humor, and he laughed when Theodore gave him a playful shove, upsetting Pounce who had just fallen asleep. The cat stretched again, lolling onto his back with his paws in the air before deciding he’d had enough of them and rolling off of Andrew’s lap to explore the open closet. “I know, I know,” Andrew said. “I sound like a bad romance novel half the time, but damned if I am not madly in love with you.” Theodore kissed him then, deceptively gentle for how eagerly he threw his arms around Andrew’s neck and held himself there, putting the entire burden of his weight on Andrew’s back where Andrew was happy to shoulder it.

“It’s cold in here,” Andrew said finally, after Theodore had settled against him, his face pressing gently into Andrew’s neck. “Why don’t you come back to bed?”

“I still didn’t find the ornament I was looking for.” Theodore glanced at a storage box that was half in the closet, items spilling haphazardly out of it.

“It’s three in the morning,” Andrew said gently, stroking Theodore’s thin side. “We can do this later today, can’t we?” Theodore closed the photo album and nodded, shifting to one hip to get to his feet, yawning, and stretching his arms over his head. Pounce immediately began winding around his legs, and Theodore stooped to pick him up as the low, steady rumble of purring filled the room.

Andrew followed Theodore out of the room, running his fingers over the light switch as he exited, but not before giving the photo album one last glance. It was strange, the feeling of impotent jealousy he felt while looking at those pictures, those captured half-seconds of Theodore’s life that he couldn't be a part of, and as they lay down together, spooning, Andrew’s arms tight around Theodore’s waist, Andrew envied the past.


End file.
